


Memories

by Tinnevelly



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinnevelly/pseuds/Tinnevelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was the first and now she was the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for this sad piece of work. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Yadda, yadda, bandmembers belong to themselves, no money was made, yadda.

The old photos were the reason for Rabbit to wistfully think back to the past. She took one from the album that she particularly noticed. The old Rabbit, even in his rough draft, held a small bundle in his arms. Rabbit remembered how strange it was for her to balance this small little man on the arm, how brightly the little creature had laughed as it had reached for Rabbits finger and sucked on it.  
With a sigh, she pushed the photo back into place and turned on. All images told their own stories. The Spine as he tried the first time to ride a bike, The Jon at his election as Mayor of Biscuit Town, Hatchworth with his first pet, a goldfish.  
Memories that filled Rabbit’s memory. Memories that were, despite thorough cleaning of her memory, still preserved. She closed the album, but kept it for a moment in her hands. The people always saw her as a lifeless machine, as a robot without feelings. Sure, basically she was nothing more than a pile of metal which was driven by a power source. But why did she had these feelings about those photographs? Why some photos called forth joy, others anger? Photos of Pappy made her the happiest. But there was a photo that she had not looked at for a good reason for a long time. She smiled as she opened the album again and looked for the said image. It was wrinkled, but still the people were reasonably easy to recognize. She gently stroked her finger over the faces. With the other hand she wiped the oil from her cheeks and shoved the picture into one of her bags. A rare picture: the four robots, Matt, Michael, Steve and Peter. They all smiled proudly at the camera.  
She would frame the picture and place it on the improvised grave of The Spine. He would have been certainly very happy about it.  
Rabbit sighed and put the album finally away. She had been the first and now she was the last. The house was empty without the many beings that had once inhabited it. She just wanted to hear the laughter, the screaming or just the breathing of one of the people who once were so close to her. Perhaps the faint sound that The Spine’s boiler did when he got upset. Or Hatchworth’s laugh. All this wasn’t there until she left the attic. Suddenly all the noises she had missed came back. With oil in her eyes she looked ahead.  
Her brothers were there, waiting for her. They wouldn’t have to wait any longer.


End file.
